I am a 25-year-old freelance classical musician from Maine currently pursuing my MFA in Writing and trying to get the most from my twenties. That is what I tell people when they ask who I am.

I do not say I am a two-time rape survivor. Like so many survivors of sexual assault, I have been mostly silent about my attacks, speaking only to my close friends and family members, as well as professionals like my therapist who are equipped to handle the aftermath of my traumas. The first of my attacks was nearly nine years ago. The second was exactly a year ago this week.

What I have to say is about silence and the power of finding my voice. After I was attacked the first time, I was terrified, full of self-blame, humiliation, and confusion. I was raped by a man I considered a friend in the Midcoast house where I lived my first summer away from my family. Even though while he was attacking me I begged and pleaded with him to stop, I could not bring myself to call it rape. I was certain that I had given him permission by letting him kiss me. I was certain that the attack was my fault. I kept my rape a secret to protect myself, my own denial, and the people who cared about me. In doing so, I also protected my rapist.

My second attack, January 20, 2006, occurred first in an Old Port dance club, where I went to go dancing with a group of nearly fifteen friends. I was sober until a man I had never met before offered to buy me a drink. I believe now that the drink he gave me was laced with Rohypnol (see “Drugs To Watch Out For”). He then isolated me from my friends until the drugs took effect — only about ten minutes. I have no memory of the five hours after I took a few sips of that drink. He must have dragged me, nearly passed out, to his car and driven me to his basement apartment.

When I came to in a dark, unfamiliar room, I first noticed my hand was covered in blood and loose bandages. Later I would discover bruises on my back and a huge lump on my head. I had no memory of sustaining any injuries.

It was then that I realized I was being sodomized. My motor skills had not returned and I could not turn my body around to see who was hurting me. My arms would not work properly. But I was starting to feel pain. When he realized I was awake he turned me onto my back, laid his weight on top of me, and continued to rape me. I didn’t fight back, I didn’t speak; I still had no idea who this man was or where I was. After he finished, he hurried into the bathroom to shower.

41. Warren JeffsJeffs, the creepy leader of the polygamist Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, is a grade-A shitbird — he reportedly described Hurricane Katrina as an answer to his prayers — and so nobody was surprised when he was finally convicted, in 2007, of being an accessory to child rape. (That case also exposed a hideous loophole in the Arizona laws against incest — they only apply to those over 18.) That should’ve been the end of the road, except that according to a recent Salt Lake Tribune story, Jeff’s diaries indicate that he’s retained a hold over his followers from jail. To be continued? We hope not.

Man of mischief Let’s see if I can fill a whole column by making jokes about violent sex offenders.

Walk against sexual violence April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month and you can help acknowledge the month by helping raise much-needed funds for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center (BARCC).

Unchecked power and secrecy — not gays — are the church’s problem Presenting more evidence that it just doesn't get it, the Vatican recently issued new so-called, "psychological screening guidelines" to weed out priest candidates with "psychopathic disorders," but only those related to sexual misconduct — specifically homosexuality.

Dirty Harry goes to church: Clint and Catholicism In Mystic River , Clint Eastwood examined the damage to a close-knit group of Boston friends, years after one of them was sexually abused by a stranger, in a film depicting the power of sexual abuse with Catholic overtones.

COOKING WITH STEAM | February 24, 2010 While most of us find the clang and bang of old radiators an annoying aspect of living in an old building, composer Travis Ramsey thought they sounded like music.

TUBA SONG | February 17, 2010 Dan Hunter wants you to know that a tuba is more than an oom-pah-pah machine or the big, shiny bell in the back of the orchestra. To Hunter, the tuba is a storyteller, an opera singer, and a melodic instrument.

HE IS A REAL COMPOSER | October 07, 2009 Joshua Newton wants you to know he doesn't write classical music.

CLASSICAL INHERITANCE | September 30, 2009 A teacher told me years ago that someday "you young people will inherit classical music. Then you can do with it what you want." And so I've been waiting.

STRING VACATION | July 08, 2009 With the Portland Symphony's elimination of its popular, but debt-inducing, Independence Pops concert series, Portlanders will have to travel a little farther to satisfy their classical-music appetites this summer. But it will be well worth the mileage.